


The bodyguard

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin awkwardly confesses his love to his One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The bodyguard

With a contented sigh, you slipped on the beautiful gown the elven maidens had laid out for you on the soft featherbed. They had even been so kind as to shorten it to better suit your height, and the silken fabric felt blissfully smooth against your clean skin, fresh out of a luxurious bath and free at last of the dirt and grime of your journey.

The valley of Imladris was especially peaceful after the chaotic scene you’d escaped to enter it. Your ears had been filled with shouts and growls and the swish of flying arrows as the swarm of orcs and wargs surrounded the company, closing in for the attack that would surely be the end of you all, and in the confusion you hadn’t heard Gandalf’s call to retreat. The next you knew, a brawny arm had encircled you and dragged you back to the shelter of a large boulder, and Dwalin slid with you in his grasp down the steep stone wall of a cave, his body bearing the brunt of your landing.

Now, looking into the mirror in one of Rivendell’s sumptuous chambers, you hardly recognized yourself as the filthy, bedraggled creature who had arrived there only hours before, and you smoothed your hair one final time and went to rejoin your companions for supper.

The rest of the company were already seated at low tables on a peaceful terrace bathed in the soft light of sunset, and you were greeted with good-natured teasing about your newly ladylike appearance as you slid into the empty space on the end of the bench beside Dwalin.

“What’s that smell?” he frowned, sniffing the air.

“Bath oil,” you answered gleefully, shoving your wrist under his nose. “Isn’t it wonderful? I can’t remember when I’ve ever smelled so nice.”

“Smells…elvish,” he said distrustfully, pronouncing the word as though it tasted foul in his mouth, and you chuckled.

“It smells like flowers, Dwalin, we have those in Ered Luin,” you teased, reaching eagerly for your glass as an elven attendant filled it with wine.

“Careful with that, lass,” he cautioned, “shouldn’t wonder if it disagrees with us.”

“You worry too much,” you said, nodding toward Lord Elrond’s table, where the company’s leader sat stiffly, moving only to allow the occasional begrudging nod. “You and Thorin both. These elves have been nothing but gracious.”

“That’s as may be,” Dwalin grunted, “but you be careful, all the same.”

As your sojourn in Rivendell stretched to days and weeks, you should have been savoring every moment of it. After all, you had a comfortable bed, daily baths, abundant meals, and a distinct lack of orcs attempting to kill you. The only large and persistent fly in the ointment was Dwalin, with his disgruntled warnings about the potential dangers he seemed to see all around you.

He observed cynically that you might trip on your “silly elvish frock” and take a tumble down one of the many staircases that traversed the city, grumbled that you were likely to catch cold in the night air thanks to the elves’ apparent disdain for walls and roofs, and spoiled your enjoyment of every salad by hoping aloud that your hosts knew poisonous greens when they saw them. You had always been fond of Dwalin – had even looked longingly at him, if you were being honest – but his overbearing concern for your safety had begun to be grating, and the final straw came one evening as you stole a quiet moment alone in one of Rivendell’s beautiful gardens.

You were enjoying a glorious sunset and the soothing downpour of waterfalls when Dwalin’s bulky form suddenly blocked your view. “Where’ve you been, lass?” he asked, in a mildly scolding tone that set your teeth on edge.

“I’ve been here,” you answered tartly. “Ought I to be somewhere else?”

“You oughtn’t go wandering off by yourself,” he chided.

“And why not, may I ask?” you said, rising to your feet. “Dwalin, what’s gotten into you? I know you’ve no love for elves and their lodgings, but I shall run mad if I can’t stir a step without you minding me.”

“I wouldn’t have you get into trouble, that’s all,” he replied stubbornly.

“I’m not a child, Dwalin.”

“I know you’re not…”

“Well, you’d never know it, you’re as bad as Dori.”

“Now, that’s going too far!” he blustered, clearly affronted.

“It’s the truth! Why do you have to fuss about me so?” you asked in exasperation.

He stopped, and stammered, and dropped his gaze to his boots, and finally mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “yermawuh,” and your brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“I said you’re my One, you daft filly!” he bellowed abruptly. “I fuss at you because I love you!”

You froze, and the waterfalls suddenly seemed thunderously loud in the silence between you as he stared at you with a flush creeping into his cheeks. Your mind spun with his confession, and your voice was nearly a squeak when you spoke.

“I’m – ”

“My One,” he sighed, his tone softening to gruff tenderness. “You’re my One…and I love you…and I never meant to tell you like that,” he added regretfully.

“You love me?” you asked wonderingly, taking a step closer to him.

“This whole journey, I’ve been trying to protect you, lassie,” he admitted, “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, and I – “

He was stopped short by your lips pressed to his, your arms winding around his neck, your body flush against his own, and he quickly recovered from his surprise to respond, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist and his hands clutching your back ever more eagerly as you kissed him with urgent, reckless enthusiasm, looking into his stunned eyes when you finally broke apart.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“If I’d known I’d get this kind of welcome, I would have done,” he grinned, still looking a bit dazed.

“Mind you, this is the one and only time I’ll be willing to overlook being called a daft filly,” you said sternly.

“Forgive me,” he said sheepishly, brushing your hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “And you were right, I’ve been such a mother hen as to rival Dori…spent so many days trying to keep you safe from trolls and orcs, I reckon I lost my head when we got here and had nothing to worry about but elves and their nonsense.”

A smile crept over your face. “I shall forgive you, on three conditions,” you offered. “One: that you bear in mind I can wield a sword in my own defense as well as anyone in this company.“ You planted another, softer kiss on his lips. “Two: that you hush up and let me eat my poisonous greens in peace.” Dwalin chuckled and nodded. “And three: that you promise never to stop loving me.”

Dwalin’s embrace tightened as he murmured, “may my beard grow thin if ever I love you less, azyungâl,” and he swept you into another hungry kiss that left you breathless as you rested your forehead against his, his hand trailing restlessly up and down your spine.

There was a mischievous gleam in your eye as you spoke softly against his cheek. “Do you know, I’ve just thought of something.”

He leaned back to look at you. “And what might that be?”

“Well, I’ve been sleeping all alone in one of these strange elvish chambers, where any number of dangers might be lurking,” you said, painting your face with mock concern as you ran your fingers over the thick fur of his vest. “If only there were someone who could stay with me at night…to make certain I’m completely safe.” You looked up at him with a saucy grin, and were rewarded with a chuckle that made his eyes twinkle.

“Aye,” he nodded, “‘twouldn’t do to have any lady of mine lying unprotected amongst these shifty elves. Lead the way, my love.” He leaned to kiss you, his mouth curving in a smile against yours and his voice a low, playful growl. “Dwalin, at your service.”


End file.
